


Paradox

by rollingday_s



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 10:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10554916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rollingday_s/pseuds/rollingday_s
Summary: Truthfully, he’s had many occasions to tell him. But for Nino life is a series of “now or never”s, and he always seems to opt for the easy way out. Henevergoes for it. Heneverrisks. Henevertells him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Arashi don't belong to me etc, etc. Previously posted on LJ. Inspired by the prompt ‘friend’ from my prompt table [here](http://rollingdayscomm.livejournal.com/7540.html).

When it happens, Nino looks into Aiba’s eyes and sees nothing but darkness.

    They’re both drunk, but maybe one is more than the other, and Nino hopes it’s him. Aiba’s eyes are glassy and completely blank when he pins him to the bed, so Nino shuts his and ignores the voice at the back of his head that tells him to stop. But he doesn’t care – or, conversely, he cares too much. He wants this, and he has wanted it for years. As he feels Aiba’s tongue on his chest, he thinks that he knows that the other man doesn’t feel the same way. Aiba takes him in his hands, and Nino thinks that he knows that the other man only sees him as his best friend. Aiba’s fingers push into him, and all Nino can think about is how he knows they will both regret this in the morning.

    But Nino doesn’t care.

    He cares too much, yes. But he doesn’t care.

    It’s not how he wanted it to be. There’s no love, no care, no gentleness. It’s not rough, he thinks while he feels Aiba push inside of him cautiously, but it’s emotionless. “We’re both drunk and horny,” he had said just a few minutes earlier, just a few seconds before their lips clashed clumsily, and their clothes ended up on the floor. Just a few seconds before he regretted it, because he never wanted Aiba to kiss him, and yet he wanted Aiba to kiss him so bad.

    They don’t finish together, and that, to Nino, is just another cruel way that the world seems to tell him that he and Aiba are not, and will never be, on the same page. He lets Aiba regain his breath before he pushes him down demandingly. When his friend wraps his mouth around him, Nino can’t help but react at the warmth and the wetness, but he doesn’t enjoy it. He closes his eyes and shuts everything else out for a second.

    Aiba is here, but it’s not the way it’s supposed to be.

 

\--

 

Truthfully, he’s had many occasions to tell him.

    But for Nino life is a series of “now or never”s, and he always seems to opt for the easy way out. He _never_ goes for it. He _never_ risks.

    He _never_ tells him.

    And then he ends up on the floor of his room, staring blankly in front of him, a game in his hands, while Aiba is out somewhere, with someone. Or maybe he’s there with him, but to Nino Aiba is never really there, he’s just passing through, like his own life, passing him by while he does nothing about it. The “now or never”s pile up on his back, but he doesn’t do anything. It is easier, he thinks, if he ignores the crossroad. If he does nothing, nothing can happen. If nothing can happen, nothing can hurt him. He wonders briefly how long this will last. Even Aiba will pass, he thinks.

    They never make any promises to stay together forever. They never even agree on becoming best friends. Truth be told, Nino still doesn’t know when they became friends in the first place.

    They were fifteen when they met. Everything was new then, the laughter, the fun, the jokes. Nino liked Aiba enough to let him sit beside him when they ride back home. Aiba liked Nino too, it seemed. Nino marvels at the fact that he’s still sticking with him even after he started acting snarky and sarcastic. When he saw that boy for the first time, the only thing he could think of was that he looked stupid, so he had told him. And yet, Aiba never passed.

    To this day, Aiba was the only “now or never” that stayed behind.

 

\--

 

“Why?”

    The sheets are half lying on the floor, leaving them completely naked, but neither of them seem to mind. Nino draws on Aiba’s cigarette, more out of nervousness than anything. He’s considering not to give it back – how many times do they have to tell him that he can’t smoke? – when his friend snatches it from his fingers and draws on it too, so that he doesn’t have to reply immediately.

    Nino is not a patient man, but with Aiba, he’s always been the most patient man in the world. Because with Aiba, everything is slow. He likes to fill those endless moments between point A and point B with either silence or meaningless words, and it’s up to Nino to wait, to spot the right time when his walls are down and he’s ready to pour everything out.

    So Nino has learnt how to wait for Aiba.

    His friend’s legs dangle from the bed. His fingers twitch nervously while they hold the cigarette. His mouth pouts a little while he strains to keep something in. He has a strand of hair on his eyes. Nino wants to tuck it behind his ears, but he doesn’t. Aiba does it himself after a while.

    “We were both drunk and horny,” comes the late reply.

    Nino tries not to laugh. Aiba is very good at meaningless replies, he thinks. They both know that’s an excuse, after all. They wanted this. Or probably not. Nino doesn’t know anymore.

    “Let’s not do this again.”

    It surprises him that he’s saying those words himself. After all, now that it happened once, now that he’s sold his soul to the devil, Nino really thinks there’s nothing left to lose. He doesn’t feel anything. He won’t allow himself to feel anything. He wants Aiba any way he can. If not his heart, then at least his body could be his.

    “Let’s not,” Aiba convenes, all too quickly for his tastes.

    There’s something in his voice that Nino can’t place, and it bothers him, but they both nod and cover themselves up, as if suddenly aware of their naked state. As if suddenly aware of each other’s presence for the first time in years.

 

\--

 

One day, Nino remembers, Aiba had told him something that he didn’t understand.

    “If it’s Nino-chan, it’s okay.”

    He was barely twenty, and Aiba’s lips were closing on his hungrily.

    Nino never thought much about it. His hand had darted to his friend’s nape almost immediately, his senses inebriated by the kiss. They were both young and stupid, and ready to experiment.

    Nino had had other kisses before, sure. There was a girl in his class when he was thirteen and her strawberry-flavoured lip balm that had left him with a sweet taste in his mouth. Then there was his first girlfriend at seventeen, and the stolen kisses under the bridge on the way home, with clumsy fingers wandering nervously to where they weren’t supposed to go. Then eighteen: plump, red lips, bodies grinding with need, and they never talked about it again, because they both just felt lonely that one night. And then Aiba at twenty, as the stupid result of a stupid experiment that neither of them knew the reasoning of, but that neither of them never really cared about.

    He never tells Aiba he’s not the first guy he kisses, and Aiba never asks. Nino wonders fleetingly if _he_ is the first, but he, too, never asks. Aiba would just lie, he thinks. Or worse, tell the truth. And Nino is not one to handle the truth easily.

    The result of the experiment leaves them both flustered and wanting something more. _Now or never_ , tells Nino the voice in his head. But Nino _never_ pushes Aiba down on the floor. Instead, he grabs his joystick and unpauses the game while his friend pants heavily at his side. If Nino saw Aiba stand up and run to the bathroom, he never showed it. All he knows is that at one point Aiba giggles and nudges him on the shoulder, Nino’s hands on his controller tighten imperceptibly, and this, too, is something he won’t talk about ever again.

 

\--

 

“Have you ever done this with someone else from Arashi?”

    Nino doesn’t think that question is fair. Aiba knows, of course, that he’s not new to this gay thing. He also apparently knows Nino is not the only one who prefers the company of men in their group, even though that was supposed to be a secret that he didn’t think his friend knew about.

    “Why do you ask?”

    He thinks it’s weird that Aiba doesn’t look at him while they’re talking. He supposes they should be both too embarrassed and too awkward to do something more than stealing glances and mumbling short replies. And yet, Nino finds that he can’t take his eyes off of Aiba. And they both can’t stop talking.

    “You know…” he trails off.

    Nino doesn’t know. Or he pretends that he doesn’t. But it doesn’t matter, he thinks. He hasn’t done it with anyone else from Arashi. There was, once, a kiss and some desperate touches, but that was it. It would be easy to tell that to Aiba now. Chuckle a little and tell him “oh, so you think just because we’re both into men we must be fucking?” Not too bitterly, but bitterly enough that Aiba understands that he resents the accusation.

    “I’m fucking him tomorrow after filming,” he says instead.

    Nino hears the sound of the tickling clock so loudly that he thinks he’s going crazy. He counts each second unwillingly.

    _… one, two, three…_

    He never was one to handle the truth well, because the truth leads to honesty, and honesty leads to something scary.

    _… ten, eleven, twelve…_

    He never thinks that he can go back on his lie. Lying comes easy to him. It protects him from the hurt.

    _… nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…_

    Because if he told the truth, if he told Aiba what he truly feels about him, Aiba could say yes. But he could just as easily say no.

    _… twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…_

    “So we pretend this never happened?”

    Ah, the world does not stop when one’s heart breaks in a million pieces, it seems.

    “We were both drunk and horny,” Nino repeats, emotionless. He doesn’t know when this has become their mantra, but it did. He doesn’t know if his friend has realised about his feelings, but he knows that if Aiba tells himself enough times that this was just a drunken mistake, he’ll end up believing it.

    “Are you two together?”

    There’s a hint of sadness in his voice. He knows by now that Aiba is probably afraid to have ruined their friendship, but perhaps he’s now worried that he’s ruined something else.

    A part of Nino growls inside of him.

    _Now or never._

    “No, we’re not together.”

    And it would be so easy to continue after this, to extend his arm and touch Aiba’s, to whisper that he loves him, that he always did, and then let his lips find his again, so they can pick up from where they left off. It’s so easy, too easy in fact, and he has to catch himself from blurting out those little three words right there right then.

    Nino’s heart sinks when Aiba turns around for the first time after a while that night. His eyes are somewhat still glassy, but the darkness in them is replaced by the more familiar, much warmer brown. _This_ , Nino thinks briefly, is the Aiba he wants to kiss.

    But he _never_ does.

    Because therein lies the paradox: the Aiba he wants to kiss, doesn’t want to kiss him back.

    “Friends, then.”

    Aiba is his friend, but Nino has never been his, he thinks. He has always wanted something more. But when he can have it, he can’t take it, because he’s too afraid to lose it all.

    “Yeah, friends.”

    Aiba nods silently before getting up. Nino can’t help but look at his body as he bends to retrieve his clothes. There’s something wrong in the way that his heart beats painfully, but he tries to ignore it.

    “I used to think…” Aiba starts.

    Nino watches as Aiba pulls his pants up. He’s not sure he wants to know what he was going to say, and yet he finds himself hoping that his friend will continue.

    Because Nino has learnt how to wait for Aiba. So Nino waits.

    And somewhere along the line, Aiba goes from point A to point B.

    “I used to think,” Aiba’s fingers brush lightly against his, “if it’s Nino, it’s okay.”

 

\--

 

They never make any promises to stay together forever. They never even officially announce that they’re boyfriends to anyone. It just happens, and they both fall into it with no questions and no more regrets.

    To this day, Nino doesn’t even know why, Aiba is the only “now or never” that never left him behind.


End file.
